


Humble Brag

by Yatteruto (orphan_account)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: !! Now I know !! It's Bad. Haha, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, Bromance to Romance, Casual Sex, Developing Relationship, Enemies to Friends, Frottage, I was experimenting, Literal Sleeping Together, Love/Hate, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Post-Canon, Rival Relationship, Sleepovers, Slow To Update, Some Plot, no beta we die like men, the verb tense sucks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 10:49:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19972825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Yatteruto
Summary: High school gone in a flash, and new teams, new people, a new level of living to adjust to.  Kageyama is surprised that there are still people he is fated to face-despite the changes they go through.  Everything about his life is different, but he doesn't think it's bad, and he wouldn't trade what he has now for anything in the world.





	1. Tension

**Author's Note:**

> Kageyama is so damn tired.

Energy. Kageyama was hunting down the food court or a stray vending machine before his first match of the day. It wasn't a big ordeal-just a local college tournament-but he took all matches seriously, for his reputation and now his school's. Small tournaments were no less strict in their early morning scheduling than officials, and his scramble to leave for the gym left him without breakfast. 

A couple turns later, he spotted open double doors that led to tiled floors. Stepping through the doorway, it was clear the place was more of a snack shop than anything. Either way, Kageyama got his food back with his focus. Retracing his way back to the gym was easier than the trip out of it, although he wouldn't admit that he got turned around once or twice. The unique smell of waxed floors and sweat greeted Kageyama when he returned. Unique yet somehow universally the same across all schools. Being a small host school, there were only two courts, both of which had matches already coming to a close. 

_Ah, so coach scheduled a late game for us. That's a relief. It's only 7._ Kageyama nodded to his team and plopped down next to their belongings. His eyes followed the movements of the players in-game despite how relaxed he was physically. A couple familiar faces stood out, like the old middle blocker of Inarizaki and a few other opponents he'd squared off against in the past. Across the gym, another team sat waiting for a court to open up. Their uniforms were a lime green and white that radiated high energy when added to the movement of most of the players warming up. 

Kageyama sucked in a deep breath and hopped to his feet. Lingering exhaustion started to drain away, so he hurried some of his teammates into warm ups so that they wouldn't be caught unprepared. 

"There's no need to rushh," one of his wing spikers whined. Kageyama frowned at them, wondering whether or not it was worth it to waste time on nagging them towards compliance. He decided against it but made a point to keep their usual speed. Both courts cleared out as warm ups ended, leaving Kageyama to his second official tournament as a freshman. Resting teams gathered at the end lines to bow, and it was while scanning the faces of his opponents that he finally recognized someone he'd not expected to run into in such an unimportant match. Oikawa's eyes were on him saying _rematch,_ and Kageyama nodded and looked towards his team with renewed determination. The coaches took a minute to organize the line up. Soon, Oikawa's powerful serve opened the match.

A back row player received it well enough to get a solid setup, allowing Kageyama's team to take the first volley. Eventually, they took the first set too, by three points. Second set, Kageyama pulled himself into focus. His sets varied as he tried out quicks and high sets to each of his hitters. Talent had guided him to high school, but college volleyball was all about communication and training. Kageyama learned this quickly in the second set. There was a steady gain and loss of possession and a close race of points between the two teams. Both teams used their time outs quickly to reset the mood if they fell into a rut. 

Point to neon. Point to blue. Vice versa, and never more than two in a row. Tensions grabbed a hold of the players nearing the end of the set. Fatigue ghosted their minds, but adrenaline pushed them to stay alert. Kageyama had gotten stiff muscles, and as soon as he realized, he let them relax with a slow breath. It was his serve now. _Breathe, Bounce, Toss, Jump._ His jump serve had improved drastically, but it was still received well by the other team to Kageyama's disappointment. Just like in high school, Kageyama tried to catch all the idiosyncrasies of Oikawa's set. The ball went high-much higher than seemed necessary-and was slammed onto their court with insane speed by the middle blocker. The setter-hitter pair high fived and now the score had settled a solid two points above his team. A new server with long hair stepped onto the court. He waited until six seconds were almost wasted to actually put the ball up. That delay and the way the ball fell so close to the net set off Kageyama's pace. He was forced to get the ball and leave the setting to his other teammates. It was clumsy at best, and Oikawa's teamwas ready for an easy ball. The middle blocker set up for another spike and killed it hard on them again. Kageyama cursed in his head. Being tied up with persistent teams and going to third sets was always such a pain. He didn't mind as much when he thought about beating Oikawa though. 

Surprises from both sides formed the spirit of the third set. The neon team switched up the rotation to start with the long haired man's serve. Kageyama was prepared for it this time. He stepped to the side to let his teammate get the ball. They'd discussed strategies before hand, but those thoughts flew his mind and he sent the ball to the hitter who looked most ready for it. He wanted to adapt Oikawa's feel for placement. Already, he was working on developing trust with his hitters on par with his rival's. It was difficult, especially now seeing Oikawa catching up to him on the talent side of setting. All the stops of the last set were pulled, and Kageyama fumbled when Oikawa switched to a high set after faking a set up for a quick. His ball control had improved much more, meaning the precision of his sets was much higher than it had been last time Kageyama had seen him. All of this tumbled around in Kageyama's mind as the end of the set neared too quickly for him. The score was tipped in green's favor, twenty-three to twenty. 

In the last time out, Kageyama listened intently to his coach's words. Over his teammate's head, he caught a flash of brown as Oikawa looked away from him. The time outs broke and silence thickened for the serve. It came over hard, and one of his teammates barely caught it with an arm before it flew off the court. They hurried an apology, now the reason for the team anxiously sitting on the lower side of twenty to twenty-four. This time when the serve came flashbacks to the national preliminaries flooded Kageyama's thoughts. The anguish. The intensity. This match, or maybe any other match, would never be able to match the depth of his previous games, but Kageyama still got chills and an adrenaline spike thinking about it. Match point serve, low and short, probably aimed at Kageyama again. He dodged and curled his back to set the ball in a spot behind him. His right side hitter beamed, already there for a quick. The ball hit the floor without a touch and a collective sigh of relief came from Kageyama and his teammates. There was still hope now that they'd broken twenty. Rotation is good and with spirits high, the ball goes up and over the net. Everyone across the net tenses in reaction to it. Coordination cultivated by practice gives them an easy bump, set, and spike. Kageyama's libero is ready for the hard hit, and keeps it in play. The strength of the ball makes it ricochet of his arms with more force than expected, so it's once again in Oikawa's hands. It's a set and hit equal to the level of foolishness of his and Hinata's insane quick. Before Kageyama could react, the ball was shooting past his face. Kageyama hears the sound of the ball on his libero's arms and turns to get it for a set only to be faced with motioinless teammates. The ball is rolling across the floor and he realizes it was not arms that the ball landed onafter all, but waxed floors.

Sweat slid down his temple. The air was still for a moment. The not quite registered fact that they had been defeated hung in the air. The ref sounded the whistle and Kageyama finally blinked, bitter acceptance carefully hidden behind only a slightly sour mask. Shaking hands was probably the worst part of losing. He was able to keep his composure until Oikawa's clasped his hand with a smug grin. He grimaced back, digging his fingers into Oikawa's palm almost too harshly. 

"Two to One Tobio. Honestly, I'm surprised I had to wait this long to overtake you again." Kageyama let go. Neither of them moved from the net. "Now that you're in college, I think we'll see each other more often."

"Would you teach me that broad set you used last time you lost against me? If we have to play again, I'd like to destroy you with your own techniques." Oikawa bristled as if prepared to fight, then snorted in a total 180. 

"There's no way you'd be able to do my plays half as well me," his tone was easy and musical, similar to the times he'd bashed Kageyama in high school. "I can teach you right now since I'm so sure of that fact." There were two hours until the next round of matches, but Oikawa's willingness to teach him made Kageyama hesitate. Throughout all the years he'd known Oikawa, there had never once been a helpful hand extended his way. It was unsettling. But improvement is improvement, and their uneven score hogged Kageyama's mind, prioritizing a chance to beat Oikawa over judging on the past. Kageyama checked the court to confirm no games would be starting soon. No refs, and most players already leaving meant the whole court to themselves. 

"If you're so sure then you'd better show me." 

* * *

"How the hell did you do it?!" A dull pain stabbed Kageyama's ankle as he twisted midair. No words met his question, only frustrating him further. The angle needed to extend full power for a far set was near impossible to reach when only inches off the net. His srong landing shot more pain along his calf. Kageyama leaned against the net pole to take pressure off of the leg which had nearly rolled in his efforts. Logistics for approach speed, timing, and extension whipped through his thoughts. If only his mind had worked this hard in the game. While he waited for the ache to dull, Kageyama drifted deeper under a layer of mental work. Visuals of jump after jump off different tosses rep- _oh?_

Hands pulled him away from the pole and his own thoughts. 

"You broke my concentration." 

"You were overthinking it Tobio. You tend to do that a lot, especially now." Oikawa bit his lip and squinted, only to widen his eyes in feigned surprise. "It's because you don't have #10 to decide where to go for you huh?" 

Annoyingly accurate, but coming from Oikawa the jab only got an eye roll. Oikawa snatched the ball. "Don't worry, I'll do that now. Let's try something other than observation and explanation." His hands prodded Kageyama towards the center of the court. "Just let me move you through it."

It was difficult following that simple demand 'just' letting Oikawa run him through something so entirely. Oikawa pushed and stopped and poked, talking non stop, barely actually using words to instruct. He restarted a few times too, but a final smooth path began to appear. 

"Okay! I think this is it." Oikawa grinned and moved Kageyama in a slow motion sprint. The light pressure of Oikawa's fingertips at his hips directed Kageyama tight along the net. Hands pressed up to his shoulders, which dropped at a hummed verbal command. Oikawa let go to grip Kageyama's wrist and pull sharply left. His leg swooped around and hit Kageyama's in an effort to encourage even more of a turn. "If you want to learn, you'll have to do it correctly you know." He said.

"I know, but doing this at a quarter of the speed isn't easy." 

"Just stop worrying about copying it perfectly dumbass."

"I'm not worrying!" Kageyama struggled to get out of their rhythm. 

"You are too-and stop moving. This is why I never taught you before. You're impossible." The struggle increased at that. Oikawa kicked at the leg which had wobbled at his nudge and caught Kageyama's weight with a hand supporting the top of his back as his knee buckled. **"L** **isten."**

"No," Kageyama tugged Oikawa off balance. His body hit the court with a thud, and Oikawa crashed hard enough to knock the wind out of him. Though much deserved, Oikawa still helped him to his feet. "I'm going to rest before our next matches like a normal person if you're not going to do what's necessary to learn from me." He huffed and stomped away, glancing back at Kageyama as he left the room. 

Oikawa peeked around the gym entrance and yelled before running out again. "You are welcome to join me if you don't act like an ass!" 

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Kageyama gives up practicing to wander the halls of the cursed school again. He thinks along the way. About school, and Oikawa, and the future, but for once not about volleyball. It's pure luck that stops him just past a lounge with a soft TV playing in the background. The lounge is nearly empty, but he catches a glimpse of neon green and soft brown hair. He awkwardly backsteps into the room and nods to Oikawa who is manspreading-no, stretching- as he watches old match tapes. Silence swirls around them, but neither men feel the need to speak. 

"Match Point! What an insane straight from #4, the ace!" Television is mesmerizing when your body wants to shut off. Kageyama sinks into the ancient couch. His eyes glaze over, only brightening up at a particularly great play. Occasionally Oikawa shifts into another stretch, interrupting his lazing. Time passes slowly, but it's nice. Kageyama glances at the clock once, twice, three times... and his eyes drift down. He fights the fatigue lazily, but eventually his breath slows as sleep drags him under. 

However many minutes later, Kageyama jolts awake. There's only the familiar distant sound of sneakers on waxed gym floors, so he wonders what woke him. Whistles blow, and Kageyama remembers why he didn't particularly want to fall asleep in the first place. The clock still reads fifteen minutes before the next matches start, but when is the last time you've seen a school clock showing the right time? Adrenaline shoos away that post nap grog that tends to cling to your body, pushing Kageyama into action. He reaches for his bag and meets resistance in the form of Oikawa draped half across his back, sound asleep. One of his eyebrows arch comically, and he sits back. Another damn whistle blows and Kegayama can't exercise caution because _the games are definitely starting._

In a moment of panic and poor judgement, Kageyama shakes the body off of him and onto the floor to snatch up his stuff and leave. He ignores Oikawa's yelp and speed walks to the door.

"Oikawa! Game time!" He looks back on his way out and laughs at that awful mess of brown hair springing up in confusion. Not a minute later, Kageyama is getting shouted at by his coach, apologizing profusely for his disappearance-although his thoughts are still lingering on the lounge and the ghost feeling of a warm weight around his shoulders. 

Despite the evenness of the first matches, it's fairly obvious which schools will beat which. Neon green stands in first place for the tournament, definitely not thanks to Oikawa in the later half of the day. Kageyama had been in the middle of his serve when the King finally slumped over to his team. It took all of his will and focus to not react to the one-sided conversation between Oikawa and his coach. 

_More like a mother reprimanding her son than a conversation._ Kageyama served an ace against anxious opponents. The usual satisfaction wasn't there. Rather than a game, the match felt one-sided too. Boring. So Kageyama sped it up with as much efficiency as he could draw out of his teammates. When done, he retreated to the bleachers with a snack in hand to catch the end of Oikawa's game. With their setter there it took no time at all to pull ahead, leading them to the top of the bracket. 

Kageyama walks back to his car when it's all over. Most of his teammates are long gone. Coach stayed as well, but that was partly formality and possibly for drinks afterwards with the other officials. He is a bit surprised running into Oikawa who's leaning awkwardly against a bike rack outside. He tugs an earbud out and gives a small smile when Oikawa looks in his direction. 

"Nice match," he congratulates. "I almost thought you fell back asleep, but it was good to see you play more." Oikawa glares, but gets up and matches his walk.

"You should've woken me up you ass." There's no venom in his tone, so Kageyama snorts.

"You're the reason I fell asleep, so I had no obligation whatsoever to wake you up." Oikawa gasps, offended. 

"How am I the reason you passed out?!"

"You wore me out during our match, tried to torture me while helping me set, then invited to me hang out on a soft couch with volleyball playing in the background. That is a one hundred percent foolproof way to get anyone to sleep." 

"I'm pretty sure literally no one else would agree, also you're directly responsible for losing and following my advice." It's Kageyama's turn to be a little offended. They reach his car and stop, leaning on the hood, staring at each other.

"You must agree because you fell asleep too," Kageyama points out. Before Oikawa can respond, and he is definitely about to, he speaks again. "Do you have a ride? You followed me, but I'm assuming you were waiting on someone before." He closes his mouth and shakes his head.

"Nah, Takeharu had to leave early. He drove me here so I'll call an uber or something."

"Just come with me. I can take you home." Oikawa tilts his head and hesitates.

"Are you sure..? Our schools are pretty far from each other, my apartment probably is too."

"Dude, it's Friday night. It doesn't matter how long it takes to drive between our places." There's still some doubt on Oikawa's face. "If you really feel bad about it just let me stay at your place and drive home in the morning." He slides into the driver's seat and glances over when Oikawa settles next to him. "Where to?"

Oikawa plays with the AC and audio buttons as they pull out of the parking lot. "My place." He connects his phone and it takes all of one second for some bass boosted pop song to reach Kageyama's ears and make him seriously reconsider the generous offer. One look at his face and Oikawa breaks out laughing. He switches the music with a small "I was testing your taste Tobio," and this time it's a much more mellow song. Kageyama vibes with it. The sky is darkening, street lights igniting, and the atmosphere is nice. He grew up in the country side where it was cozy, but bright lights and the sound of busy life everywhere is refreshing. Kageyama waits until they transition from highway to intersections to turn the AC off and roll down the windows. There's silence again, except for siri's directions or Oikawa's tired sighs. It's so easy and pleasant. He isn't really one for driving, but night drives are something Kageyama could get use to.

The two reach Oikawa's apartment in half an hour. Not a bad time at all. The sky is totally dark by now with occasional pinprick of star breaking through the dome of light pollution that clouds the sky. Whether they're satellites or stars, Kageyama doesn't know, but he appreciates their efforts. Oikawa takes the lead once they're out of the car. Kageyama stays a step behind him, unwilling to display his awkwardness now that the bubble they'd been in has been popped. He watches Oikawa sift through a pocket for keys and hum triumphantly when he fishes them out. There's nothing to say, but Oikawa doesn't seem to mind Kageyama taking off his shoes at the front hall and plopping down on a loveseat in his small living room space without so much as a word. A light flicks on and Oikawa turns a corner to some unknown room, leaving Kageyama to look around for a bit. 

It's a nice apartment. Very simple and clean save a few photos littered on various surfaces. Kageyama thumbs a torn thread on the armrest and sits back. He's exhausted from the week, and his body realizes now that nothing sounds better than crashing right here on his barely-friend-and-rival's couch. Oikawa's return saves him from the embarrassment of passing out again. 

"You staying here?" Oikawa asks. His bag and jacket are gone, and his shirt is hanging off his neck like he's in the middle of changing and remembered to talk to Kageyama without finishing. 

"If it's really not a problem, sure." Oikawa huffs.

"It's not. If anything this is my thank you for the ride. You look tired so don't change your mind later." Kageyama nods. "Alright, good. I'm going to take a shower first, then you can. Just ask for clothes if you need any." He walks back down the hallway and Kageyama puzzles over what could've changed in the two years since they'd last played together that brought about this casual attitude towards him. 

* * *

They shower and change, get some snacks, oddly enough find out they like the same tea before sleep. But they don't sleep. Oikawa comes out to the living room with a heap of blankets spilling over his arms. The blankets all 'accidentally' fall on Kageyama, and he hardly has time to push them away before pillows are tossed his way too. One more trip and Oikawa is back with his laptop. Kageyama waits for the laptop to be safely set aside to lob a pillow back at Oikawa. He gets a shout and a side glare, and has to ignore the overwhelming urge to do it again for the sake of getting a movie set up.

The laptop is eventually propped up on a tv dinner table. Oikawa shows Kageyama the lever to recline, and they fight for fluffier blankets. It takes a while to settle down, but they manage it. Kageyama relaxes in Oikawa's presence, and is gracious enough to give him movie pick. A delighted Oikawa immediately signs into Netflix and pulls up something Kageyama has never even heard of. It looks like it's in a different language and _yup_ it starts with large white subtitles at the bottom and a deep, heavily accented narrator speaking a very western language. Kageyama thinks it's English, but it sounds.. more fluid? Who knows.

Oikawa is engrossed in the movie. He sneaks sips of tea and explains things when the movie slows down and tenses up at action, and Kageyama watches him from the spot next to him because he's so tired and Oikawa is much more entertaining than whatever is playing. An hour in they pause for a bathroom and refill break. Kageyama is too comfortable to move so he stays put. Laying there beneath three layers of blankets in a new place is somehow the most comfortable thing he's ever experienced, and when Oikawa gets back and starts the movie again they go back to watching their respective shows. 

"God, I can't spoil it but it's so OBVIOUS!" Oikawa shrieks a little too loudly and turns to make sure he hasn't bothered Kageyama. Kageyama is far from bothered, just half asleep. Both men stare at one another for a couple seconds, and neither look away. The half of his brain that is functioning regularly forces Kageyama to glance away after another few, finally processing that he'd been watching for way too long. He sinks lower into the couch, eyes fluttering to a close. Honestly, it's too much of a bother to read into the stare so he doesn't. A click sounds. The narrator's voice halts, and ah wow _I am practically asleep right now._ Kageyama hums and lets go of consciousness, curling into the mass of linens which had become his and Oikawa's makeshift bed. A gentle hand sifts through his nearly dry hair, and he's gone.


	2. Growth

The next morning is..different. Kageyama packs his stuff up without waiting to eat breakfast or speak much with Oikawa. Oikawa watches him from the couch, yawning and squinting. Just to make sure that everything is there, Kageyama double checks his bag and scans the living room for belongings he might be missing. Everything seems to be in place, so Kageyama thanks Oikawa, who just nods, grunts, and drops back onto their blanket pile. A fleeting sense of apprehension grips Kageyama when he opens the door, prompting him to glance back at the apartment one more time. Soft, pure, lazy; the room radiates an energy he's just barely experienced before. It clings to him like deja vu and makes his stomach turn. Next to Kageyama, the door hinges squeal, breaking his train of thought. He closes the door and heads to his car with that image in the doorway burned into memory.

The drive home is hazy at best, with Kageyama's mind wandering towards Oikawa, and their history. Cars pass him and lights switch with traffic, but subconscious motor function alone keeps Kageyama straight on the road. Time loss knocks him out of his daze when he realizes that he's been in his own kitchen staring at Snapchat stories for half an hour. Nothing says zoning out like forgetting a couple consecutive hours of your life. 

((Pretty much a dead fic I forgot about. I have the chapter outlines set up & can post them but ugh))


End file.
